


returned with love

by nd_mindoir



Series: postum [3]
Category: Person of Interest (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Established Relationship, F/F, Family Feels, Hurt/Comfort, post s5
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-05
Updated: 2020-07-05
Packaged: 2021-03-04 19:35:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,250
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25091725
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nd_mindoir/pseuds/nd_mindoir
Summary: When it’s the anniversary of her mother’s death, Root cannot help but think about what Shaw’s mother is like. She didn’t expect to actually meet her, though.Companion piece to ‘left with honor.’
Relationships: Root | Samantha Groves/Sameen Shaw
Series: postum [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1816909
Comments: 8
Kudos: 110





	returned with love

**Author's Note:**

> Post S5 but slightly canon divergent from 5x09 on (everybody lives.)  
> -  
> Basically 'left with honor' but from Root's pov. Most notable difference is Root's conversation with Shaw's mother while Shaw roams the house.

She doesn’t know what prompted her to ask about Shaw’s mother. The anniversary of her own mother’s death didn’t usually make her feel quite this emotional, but somehow, lying in bed with Shaw and listening to the Machine offering her condolences, made her think about what Shaw’s mother is like.

Strong and determined, she’s sure. She must be to raise a woman like Shaw on her own. It cannot have been easy, having a child incapable of showing emotions other than anger and frustration.

But the second the question left her mouth, she knows she shouldn’t have asked. Root hasn’t even noticed Shaw’s fingers tracing the scar of the bullet wound until they stilled.

She untangles herself from Shaw and looks down at the shorter woman. She seems deep in thought, her eyes far away, but expression carefully blank.

“Sameen?”

Suddenly, Shaw blinks a couple of times before turning away from Root.

“I wouldn’t know,” her voice is neutral, as void of emotion as every other day. “I haven’t seen her in years.”

Root knows that, of course. She’s read Shaw’s ISA file, knows that she’s been officially dead long before the ISA decided to kill her. But she already asked the question and really wants to know. It is too late to back away now.

“What do you remember from before, then?”

“Root”, Shaw sighs. “What’s with the questions?”

She doesn’t answer at first, merely lies back down, hides her face in Shaw’s neck once more and takes a deep breath. The smell is all too familiar by now. A mixture of cheap soap, gun oil, and underneath it all something so uniquely Shaw. It’s soothing in a way she never expected another person to be.

“It’s the anniversary of my mom’s death,” she eventually admits.

Beneath her, Shaw groans.

“Well, what was your mom like?”

Root shrugs, having expected the gruff counter.

“Sick or drunk most of the time but doing her best,” she hesitates for a moment and can’t help but smile slightly. “Pushing me to be my best, too.”

She always told Root to follow her heart and dreams, to act out her strengths and do what she’s best at. Granted, she probably didn’t mean for her to become a hacker and contract killer, but still. She was supportive in her own way until it all went downhill when Hanna died.

“It was hard for her, but she cared,” Shaw reveals eventually, and the small crack in her voice is so uncharacteristically, Root cannot help but frown down at her. “Maybe too much.”

“Do you miss her?”

Shaw has that far away look again. Root has grown used to it by now. She gets it whenever Shaw tries to sort out her emotions, deciphering what they mean and how to explain them to someone who experiences life in such a different way. It’s touching in its own way that she goes through the trouble of doing it at all. She can’t picture Shaw taking the time to try and explain herself to anyone else.

“Maybe.”

“You know, you could just tell her you’re alive,” Root suggests.

“There’s a reason I faked my death, Root.”

“I get that, but we’re safe now.”

“Yeah, right,” Shaw snorts.

“The ISA already killed you and it didn’t stick. And Samaritan is gone,” she softens her voice for that last part, but sees the change in Shaw’s expression happening regardless.

Shaw is never afraid, she claims, but whenever something comes up that would cause fear in any other person, she grows frustrated and angry. It only takes a second before Root is being shoved away rather roughly and Shaw sits up, staring down at her with furrowed brows and bared teeth.

“Should I just ring the doorbell? _Hey maman, I’m not dead, you can stop grieving now?_ ”

“Why not?”

“You’re ridiculous,” Shaw rolls her eyes, then after a pause: “Let’s just sleep.”

Root acknowledges that as the dismissal of their discussion for now. Anything else will surely have Shaw running and she doesn’t want that. So, she keeps silent and waits for Shaw to settle back down into the bed, with her body more rigid than before and her breathing slightly labored.

She observes Shaw for a couple of seconds, really wants to reach out again and curl up into her smaller body, but unsure of how Shaw will react. That is, until Shaw is the one to turn and touch her hip.

Root cannot help but smile as she reaches out to pull the arm around her body and slides closer to Shaw until she feels her breath on her face.

“Do you think she’d like me?”

She doesn’t mean to ask the question, but it slips out anyway. Shaw’s amused snort is the only answer she needs for tonight.

.oOo.

The topic of Shaw’s mother hasn’t come up until a month later. Root didn’t dare to mention it again and she didn’t expect Shaw to do it either. To say she was surprised when she just came up to her and told her to pack her things, would be an understatement.

“Where are we going?” She asked with a smile while listening to the Machine telling her about the car Shaw rented this morning.

“Pennsylvania.”

And this is how she finds herself standing in front of a two-story house now. Though her gaze is firmly fixed on the shorter woman to her left rather than the building.

Shaw’s breathing is calm, her face blank, but she sees the hesitation. She’s seconds away from bolting.

“We can still go back,” Root offers.

Shaw needs to know that the option exists and is valid. Nobody forces her to be here and do this. It’s her own choice. As expected, Shaw looks up at her and takes a deep breath.

“No, you were right. She deserves to know I’m alive.”

She follows her up to the front door with a smile on her face and squeezes her shoulder when Shaw hesitates once more.

Almost a minute after the voice rings out from within the house, the door opens and reveals a woman in her fifties. Even without knowing who she is, Root would recognize her instantly. She’s a bit shorter than Shaw and her loose hair more gray than deep brown. Her face however is the same as Shaw’s, but with more wrinkles around her eyes and mouth and a light dusting of freckles covering her cheeks and nose.

Shock, pain, and joy are all evident on her features as the woman chokes down a sob.

“Hallo maman.”

Shaw barely finished the second word when the slap echoes through the silent air. Root flinches for Shaw, especially when she’s suddenly wrapped tightly in an embrace and looks more uncomfortable by this demonstration of pure love than the physical attack earlier.

It’s a testament to her willpower how long she stands still without pushing her mother off and Root realizes this is the first time she witnesses Shaw caring deeply in her very own way for another person. She cares about Reese, Finch, and Fusco too, but this is something else entirely. This is love. Or as close to it as Shaw is capable of.

Once they’re inside the house, Root is immediately drawn to the mantelpiece like a moth to the flame. Her heart skips a beat as she looks at the two pictures, both frames adorned with black ribbons. How hard must it have been for the woman to lose both husband and daughter and be left with nothing but photographs to remind herself of them.

After examining Shaw’s father, she picks up the other picture and smiles down at the familiar features. Shaw does cut a dashing figure in that uniform, with her usual hard eyes and set shoulders. A soldier through and through. Someone to be proud of.

“It’s a shame you’re not a marine anymore,” she smirks down at the picture. “You’re hot in that uniform.”

“You have a thing for uniforms?”

She looks up from the frame and roams Shaw’s body instead, wondering what it would be like to have her standing in that uniform in front of her. How it would feel to peel her out of it.

“I have a thing for you, sweetie. The uniform is merely a bonus.”

Shaw snorts when she walks up and takes the frame out of her hand. Root notices how her eyes drift to the ribbon instead of the picture itself. She puts it back on the mantel and her voice is soft when she speaks.

“Better not touch it. Maman doesn’t like anybody messing with the mantel.”

Shaw’s eyes grow distant again, but weirdly wild, and then she closes them. Root notices the signs even before Shaw moves one hand up and searches for a scar she won’t find. Watching this display of self-doubt feels like having her ribcage cracked open and her heart torn apart.

The last time Shaw was sure she was just inside another simulation has been two months ago, and it started just like this. Then she screamed at Root to leave her alone, to run before she’d do something stupid, before they’d find them.

Shaw never told her much about what Samaritan did to her, what she witnessed in those simulations. Root only knows how most of them ended; with Shaw killing herself. The Machine has a better understanding of it, but She refuses to tell Root more than Shaw is willing to. So, Root is left with wondering what it feels like to have the memory of seven thousand suicides and never being quite sure what is fake and what is real. She cannot even begin to imagine that.

Instead, she helps in the only way she can. She reaches out and carefully pries the fingers away from the unscarred skin.

“You’re safe, Sameen.”

Shaw looks up at her, eyes slowly refocusing and a little frown in place.

“What?”

“Four alarm fire, remember?”

Root tucks a loose strand behind Shaw’s ear and bends down to kiss her. A reminder that she’s here for her and a promise that it won’t change. She softly squeezes the wrist she’s still holding before she walks to the table, sure that Shaw will follow her.

She doesn’t notice Shaw’s mother standing in the room until Shaw suddenly gets back to her feet and helps her with the tray. When everyone is finally settled down at the table and the silence becomes stifling, the eldest amongst them is the first to speak up.

“You’re really alive.”

“Yes.”

“And you have been this whole time.”

Root moves her eyes to Shaw, sees her taking a breath. “Yes.”

“I always hoped, but I never thought-”

There’s more silence when they all look towards the burial flag and the black ribbons once more.

“I’m so sorry, maman.”

“It’s okay. You’re here now. That’s what matters.”

Root watches as Shaw’s mother reaches out with one hand. She smiles as Shaw closes the distance and lets her wrap her hand in hers.

“So, who’s your friend?”

Suddenly the center of attention, Root’s eyes shoot up from the no longer joined hands and she look back and forth between mother and daughter. After a couple of seconds, the Machine reminds her that she’s been asked a question and it is customary behavior to answer.

“I,” she clears her throat, not sure what to say or how to introduce herself. “I’m Samantha Groves.”

She thinks about including words like _girlfriend_ or _partner_ , but they don’t really seem to fit. Luckily, Shaw’s mother saves her internal dilemma by chuckling.

“Another Sam?”

Root flinches. What urged her to use her real name? She hasn’t used it in two decades and hates every time Finch calls her by it. So, she feels grateful when Shaw speaks up rather sternly.

“She goes by Root, though.”

“Root? That’s-”

She sees the tension in Shaw’s jaw. It wouldn’t be the first time she’d explode at someone for a comment at the choice of her name. Usually she’s touched by the protective gesture, but she doesn’t want the anger to be directed towards her own mother.

“Quite the unique name.”

“Well, I am quite the unique woman,” Root answers proudly, ignoring Shaw’s trademark eye-roll.

“You must be, if you managed to tame Sameen.”

“Maman!”

“Oh, hush. I love you, but we both know you’re not exactly an easy person to deal with.”

When Shaw leans back in her chair like a petulant child, Root sees the irritation building up in her. She tries to calm her down by placing her hand on her thigh. It proves to have been the wrong thing to do, though, as it’s brushed off and Shaw just grows more tense with every second.

“I need some air,” she suddenly gets up and leaves before any of them can say anything.

“I’m sorry about her, she’s-”

“There is no need to explain my own daughter to me,” Root is interrupted immediately with a kind voice. “I remember her fits of anger all too well. I am more surprised that she leaves to have them elsewhere.”

Root only nods. Shaw must have had dozens of temper tantrums growing up, with only her mother near to absorb them all.

“Is she alright though?”, Shaw’s mother finally asks. “I mean, in general. Earlier she seemed… You told her she’s safe? Did something happen to her?”

Root inhales deeply. That answers the question of how much she has heard before the two of them noticed her standing in the doorway.

“She has been through a lot,” Root admits, not sure how much to reveal.

She doubts telling her mother about the falling out with the ISA, the two warring AIs, or the fact she’s been abducted and tortured for nine months would be appreciated here.

“She’s doing better now. She’s a very strong person. It’s just that she needs a reminder every once in a while. That she’s not alone, you know?”

“Is she?” Shaw’s mother asks. “Not alone, I mean.”

Root smiles at her, seeing what question is hidden beneath that one. She wants to know what exactly Root and Shaw are to each other. Sadly, there isn’t an easy answer to it.

“Not if I can help it,” Root decides.

“So, I guess you also know about her,” she trails off with a hand gesture, obviously not knowing how to phrase it.

Shaw probably never told her about the real diagnostic, never put it into medical terms. The words axis II personality disorder or sociopath never used to describe herself in front of her.

“I do.”

“And it doesn’t scare you off?”

Root chuckles at the thought of Shaw scaring her off. She could throw her worst at her and Root would still be standing by her side. In fact, Shaw did throw her worst at her and she merely kept begging for more.

“Your daughter is perfect the way she is. I love her,” she assures Shaw’s mother. “And she cares for me, too, in her own way. That is all I can ask, all I need.”

“It’s all a mother wishes for her child,” relief floods her face as she speaks those words. “To find love in this hopeless world. But with Sameen, I feared it just might never happen.”

“You do not have to worry about that. I will not leave her unless she wants me to. And neither will her friends.”

Her mother is beaming with joy at that, and it’s only now that Root realizes Shaw probably never had any real friends either. Not like Root had Hanna. Not in the way John is like an older brother to her, or Fusco the always bickering cousin, or Finch the caring uncle. The little group that has adopted Shaw and later Root truly feels like family.

“Did you know she faked her death? And why?”

“Yes,” Root grimaces, looking back at the mantelpiece once more. “Though that is a question you should better ask her. It doesn’t seem right to explain that.”

“Of course…So, how did you meet?”

Root freezes. This enters the same territory as all the shit Shaw had to go through these past few years, certainly nothing acceptable to tell her mother. She thinks back to their first meeting, when she introduced herself as Veronica before tasing Shaw and threatening her with a hot iron.

Good times.

“Well,” she begins rather uncertainly. “We met through work almost four years ago. Around the time Sameen had left the military and joined a private security firm. We were not on friendly terms, you could say.”

“Oh, so you were in the military as well?”

“God, no,” Root chuckles. “No, I am not the military type. Too many rules. I worked as an independent IT specialist. I was asked to dig up some information on Sameen’s company. She, on the other hand, was to find out, who kept attacking their networks. We essentially hunted each other across the country.”

“That does sound like a romantic cliché,” her mother smiles at the story. “Though I’m sure Sameen would disagree.”

“You are right with that,” Root chuckles, remembering all the annoyed eye-rolls she earned in their early days. “She eventually managed to find me and effectively put an end to my attempts at gathering information.”

Suddenly Shaw rushes back into the living room, a slightly less annoyed look on her face.

“There you are, sweetie,” Root smiles when Shaw sits back down to her left. “I’ve just told your mom how we met.”

“Yeah, I heard.”

“Don’t worry, I kept it PG,” she attempt-winks at her.

“Uh-huh.”

With Shaw more or less calmed down, Root turns back to her mother.

“So anyway. It was then that our companies merged, and we ended up working together.”

“I can’t picture she liked that,” her mother chuckled.

“Oh, she hated it, I’m sure. But I’d like to think I’ve grown on her.”

“Sure, like a fungus,” Shaw mutters under her breath.

Root only gives her a huge grin while Shaw’s mother scolds her daughter with her eyes alone.

“And when did you get together?”

“Not for a while,” Root shrugs. “It really depends on from when you count, I guess.”

If she’d choose the date Shaw finally admitted to their relationship being a relationship, they’d be together for a couple of months now, long after she escaped Samaritan. If she’d choose the first time they had sex, it’d date all the way back to those ten hours in the CIA safehouse when she drugged and abducted her.

“Alright, no need for more details.”

She smiles, kind of glad for the interruption of her thoughts as well as the conversation.

“I’m just glad I bonded with the dog. I’m sure Sameen would’ve never let me in if Bear hadn’t accepted me.”

“You have a dog named Bear?” Her mother directs the question at Shaw who only groans in response.

.oOo.

“It has been lovely meeting you, Root,” Shaw’s mother says.

“You too.”

Root smiles a goodbye and squeezes Shaw’s arm reassuringly before she turns and walks back to the car. The Machine plays some soothing music to her as she observes the conversation from afar.

“You will look after her, yes? Shaw’s mom?”

“ _Of course_ ,” She answers.

“Good.”

She averts her eyes as soon as Shaw’s mother kisses her on her forehead. She deems it too private to be witnessed by her.

“She deserves peace. They both do.”

“ _Agreed._ ”

**Author's Note:**

> ask me anything on [tumblr](https://nd-mindoir.tumblr.com/)


End file.
